Thank you, everyone, for the reviews! You guys mean so much to me, you have no idea. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic and I hope you like this next chapter. I'm fond of it. Enjoy!

House stared at the child standing in front of his office door as it swung shut. He slid his chair out in preparation to stand, but decided against actually rising to his feet.

"Aren't you suppose to be in school?" he sneered, almost hoping to scare her away.

"No," she answered simply, holding her ground.

"Why not?" House eyed her up.

"It was a half day," she told him and then gave a shrug.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"Mom's office is boring." Sarah toyed with the end of her red belt that was around her blue jeans. "Can you play with me?"

"No," House answered immediately.

"Why?" Sarah cocked her head to the side.

"I don't play with children," House shook his head, staring her down.

"Why?" Sarah asked again.

"Because they're annoying." House made a face at the girl.

"I am not!" She exclaimed placing her hands on her hips. She suddenly dropped them as she looked at his guitar and then back at House. "Can I play your guitar?"

"No."

"Why not?" Sarah pouted and folded her arms over her white Hello Kitty shirt.

"Because it's mine," House replied.

House wasn't going to let his guard down just because she was pouting. It was hardly ever that anyone pouted at him anyway. Stacy never did and Cuddy never did either. The women of his life weren't pouters.

Sarah dropped her arms to her sides and raised her chin. "Fine."

With that, she turned around and headed for the door. House's eyebrows drew together. That look he was familiar with. He got it several times a week from Cuddy. He could play Sarah's game. House slid his chair across the floor and to the resting guitar.

"Have you ever held a guitar like this one?" House spoke up just as she reached the door.

Sarah turned and shook her head no. House looked her over and let out a sigh. He leaned over in his chair and turned on the amp. He then picked up his guitar.

"Come here." He gave a slight nod.

Sarah's face lit up and House paused for a moment. He wasn't used to getting that kind of reaction so quickly after the glare. He shook that thought from him as Sarah hurriedly arrived at his side. House placed the strap over her shoulder, but made sure he was still holding the weight of the guitar.

"It's heavy," House warned her.

"I got it," Sarah insisted.

She eagerly took the guitar in her hands, her muscles tensing. House reached over and opened his desk draw. He produced a black pick and held it out in front of her. Balancing the guitar, Sarah yanked the pick from his hand. She strummed it hard against the strings and House winced.

"Easy," he instructed.

"Sorry," Sarah apologized, giving House a smile that was missing one tooth on the bottom row and one on the top row.

Sarah strummed lighter on the strings. House leaned back in his chair a bit, relaxing even though his, technically speaking, 'baby' was holding his baby.

"Now you're looking like Mick Jagger," House told her, his eyes slightly lit up.

Sarah stopped playing and looked at House. "Is that who I'm named after?"

"No." House shook his head.

"But, you call me Mick," Sarah replied.

"That's to make your mom mad," House said.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"Because she deserves it," House answered her.

Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "But, why does she get mad?"

House shook his head again. "That's a very long story which we don't have time for."

"Do you want kids?" Sarah asked him, her tone indicating pure curiosity.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Sarah's eyes widened.

House paused, eyeing her up. "Why?"

"Well, you helped my mom have me." Sarah gave a small shrug.

"There were a lot of reasons behind that," House began, "but none of them included me wanting kids."

"Oh." Sarah looked back down at the guitar and strummed lightly.

"Here." House drew her attention back to him. "Come here. I'll show you how to play some chords."

"Okay," Sarah agreed and carried the guitar over to him.

Cuddy stood in the hall, watching as House reached around Sarah and placed her fingers on the strings to correctly play a series of chords. A part of Cuddy wanted to go in there and demand her daughter back, especially since she was still angry with House. However, a part of her wanted to watch in the hope that the stinging in her heart would subside. A stinging that she hadn't felt this intensely since three years ago.

"How is she?" He lingered in the doorway of the hospital room.

"Fever's down," she answered shortly, unsure of his presence.

"That's good." He took a step inside.

"Yeah." She wanted to break something. Or throw up. Or cry. But, she couldn't decide which one it should be.

"Come here," he told her gently and limped further into the room.

Cuddy shook her head. She already felt powerless and giving in to House would only make her feel even weaker. House walked over to her, but his eyes were on the five year old child in the bed. He stood next to Cuddy.

"She'll be all right," he said.

"You don't know that," she replied.

"You're right," he agreed. "She could die."

Cuddy didn't look at him, but when she blinked, the tears she was trying to hold back spilled over.

"I was never good at bedside manner," he offered.

House reached up and placed a hand on Cuddy's shoulder. She suddenly turned in to him, crying against his chest. House moved his hand around to her back.

"She's sick and there's nothing I can do about it," she mumbled against the fabric of his shirt.

"You're doing all you can." He gave her a gentle squeeze.

"It's not enough," she spat.

Cuddy moved away from him and sniffed away her tears. House moved to her and paused just behind her.

"Lisa..."

His softened tone caused her to break down again and she turned toward him. He placed his arms around her and drew her in. This time she didn't pull away as the heavy throbbing in her chest began to lessen.

Cuddy snapped herself out of her thoughts. She checked her watch and then entered House's office. She lingered near the doorway.

"There you are." She pretended she hadn't been watching. "What are you doing?"

House looked towards Cuddy. "Just playin' some riffs, Ma."

House took the guitar from Sarah. She ran to her mother and slipped her hand into the warm, thin, familiar fingers.

"Come on, sweetie." Cuddy gave a tug of Sarah's hand. "We're getting pizza on the way home."

"Yay!" Sarah smiled up at her mother.

"Yay!" House mimicked.

Cuddy directed her eyes to House. Sarah stared down at the floor, occupied by her mother's shoes.

"Thanks, House," Cuddy said sincerely, the soft embrace in the past washing back to the surface of her memory once more.

"Mom, can Dr. House come over for dinner?" Sarah looked up, her blues eyes hopeful.

Cuddy shook her head. "Oh, honey, I don't think-"

"Aren't you going to ask him?" Sarah asked in a loud whisper before looking to House.

"I don't like pizza," House said, even though he just had it for dinner the previous night.

"You don't like pizza?" Sarah repeated, her mouth hanging open.

"Nope." House gave a shrug and set his guitar back to its proper place.

"Maybe another night, Sarah." Cuddy began to lead the way to the door. "Goodnight, House."

"Night, House," Sarah copied after her mother.

House gave a short nod and occupied himself with turning the amp off. Once the door swung shut, he looked up and watched as the two left from his view.